Being the New Girl
by Username48
Summary: Moving is never a fun experience. It's also nothing new for 16 year old Spencer. Same old same old. But when she moves to Tulsa, Oklahoma, things change, and she learns that you don't have to be the new girl forever. Sorry for the cruddy summary! My first story! Rated T for language.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys! So this is my first ever story on this website! Excited? Yes. Nervous? Oh yes. If you would please review for me with constructive criticism, tips on HOW THE HECK TO USE THIS SITE, and anything else I might need to know I'd be sooo grateful! And I know this first chapter isn't too full of action, but I kind of have to just set the scene. I just need to totally get my characters before I can really write well about them. I will try to update every other day, but my schedule can get pretty busy so we will just have to see! Thank you so much, and enjoy! (Or not... :))**

Being the new kid in town is never easy. Especially when you get older, because everybody already know everybody. They know who to avoid, who can beat the stuffing out of who, who is at the top of the food chain, who is at the bottom, and more importantly, who your friends and enemies were. So, you can imagine the dismay I felt when I, being 16 years old at the time, was forced by my father to move to a small town on the opposite side of the state where all the kids had already figured out these things, and weren't very flexible nor welcoming to anybody who would upset such a fragile balance. Despite all of my begging and reasoning, my father would not budge on his decision-whether or not anything I said penetrated his thick, drunken skull however, is another question entirely. The only excuse he could seem to come up with was that it was "for work". When someone says that they are moving for work, you usually imagine that they have some high paying , fancy job in which you would have to transfer whenever you got promoted. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case with my father. Oh no. It simply meant that everyone within a 50 mile radius of our house had learned what a drunk lazy bum he was, and refused to hire him anymore. And so, as had been the pattern in the last eight years of my life, we were forced to relocate somewhere outside of our little bubble in which we were mutually looked down upon, if not disliked by all who had ever heard of us. Thus, we found our way to a little town in Oklahoma called Tulsa.

It was different than anywhere else I'd ever lived. For starters, we could only afford a house on the poorer side of town, whereas before we were usually on the bottom half of the middle class. That explained why things we had done in in our old neighborhood that had been deemed unacceptable was totally normal here. Another difference was that my dad wasn't the only drunk around. I'm not sure why, but it was oddly comforting when on the first night of having moved in, I could hear faintly one of my neighbors answering my fathers own drunken calls. I suppose it was because I wouldn't have to feel quite so ashamed at being "That crazy drunks kid," because there was another one, if not more, just like me.

When we first moved in, it was summer time. Again, not a good thing to a new kid. Since it was a new town and all, you had no idea where all the fun place to hang out were, or where you could hang out that was acceptable for you unknown social class. Even if such unanswerable questions somehow became known to you, it was still pointless: you had no friends to do any of these things with!

And so, my first month and a half in Tulsa fell into the melancholy routine of getting my father up and ready for work when I could (Like sending a young boy off to school, but to a mechanics shop instead) and the rest of my time reading what few books I had, or watching reruns of the same shows over and over again. I suppose the day that all changed was the day that I failed to get my father up in time.

I had woken myself up so that I would be able to force my father out of bed, put is uniform on him, and send him to work with his lunch of a ham sandwich, and a thermos of straight whiskey. (By personal request of course) My mistake was in falling back to sleep after waking up the first time. I awoke the second time to his screams.

"Spencer! Spencer you good for nothing kid! Get in here!"

I pulled myself up and blinked sleepily at the clock. It was 7:00. His shift had started a half an hour ago. I gulped and creeped into his room. "Yes sir?" I asked meekly, staring at a stain on the carpet at the very edge of his room.

His voice became dangerously quiet. "Do you know what time it is?" His eyes were red-rimmed from his perpetual pattern of staggering drunk to helplessly hung over.

I decided to play dumb. "N-no sir," I answered quietly, cringing at my own stutter. I had no back bone when standing up to him. To anyone in that matter.

"No?" He asked again quietly. He slowly reached for the grimy alarm clock on his bedside table, his eyes never leaving my face. I don't even know why he even had an alarm clock. It's not like he ever used it. He slowly grabbed at the clock and pulled it back until it was in front of his face. He studied it for a moment when suddenly, without warning, he threw it at me with all his strength.

I dodged my head away, but it still caught my shoulder pretty hard, sending glass flying. I felt some cut the side of my head. Normally he wouldn't be so upset about missing work, but for the first little bit he liked to play the role of model employee, so it would be that much harder for the boss to let him go. Give it two months, and he wouldn't even pretend to care.

"Well it's 7:00 in the morning!" He screamed, crawling out of bed and walking towards me, all while continuing his furious tirade. "I'm already a half an hour late for work you little bitch! Look at me when I'm talking to you!" He screamed. I snapped my eyes up from where they'd been fixed on the stain, and was forced to look at him straight on in all his glory.

His once dark full head of hair was now heavily balding on the topm and greying at the sides. His watery blue eyes were forever bloodshot, and seemed small, and sunken into his head. He had a steadily growing double chin, and a tendency to spit and drool a lot when he yelled. His gut spilled over his dirty pants, and had steadily been growing in the wrong direction for almost four years. He used to be considered handsome-something you could still discern, if just barely from his finely shaped nose, and his strong cheek bones, but any other mark of the man he had been before was erased by years of drinking away memories he's rather forget.

I snapped back into attention as he gave me an order. "Go fix my lunch, and bring me my car keys. Hurry the hell up!" he shouted. I nodded and scurried away, completing the task in what I was sure was record time. When I came back to his room, he had dressed himself. It was a feat in which I allowed myself to feel the closest thing to proud I'd felt in a long time towards my father. Proud. For getting dressed all by himself. That was just sad.

He snatched the items from my hands and started towards the door, all the while yelling abuse at me. I managed to block out most of it, while picking up any directions he had for me that day. It was a skill that I had been working on for a while, and almost had perfected. "Go to the store and buy a new clock," was his first order. "And while you're at it, buy some more food," He finished, before walking out the front door and slamming it behind him without a good-bye.

As soon as I heard our car leave the driveway, I collapsed in to kitchen chair and massaged my sore shoulder. I'd gotten off east today with just to alarm clock projectile! He was probably in too much of a hurry to do more, and I would most likely really get it when he got home. I worried about what he would do as I rolled my right arm.

After taking a few aspirins to keep my shoulder from getting stiff, and cleaning off the small cuts on the side of my head, I got in the shower and shampooed my hair, pondering my schedule for the day.

I really was glad to get out of the house. After living in this town for almost two months I still hadn't been allowed to leave the property. Sure I probably could've gone while dad was at work, but as I said before, I had nothing to do and didn't want to wander around like an idiot. Even so, my anxiety about what to wear and such had me worried. I finally turned the knob on the shower, knowing that stressing out about it would make me so scared that I might not get the courage to go out at all. I walked into my room and closed my eyes, sticking my hands into my closet blindly to see what I came up with just a simple pair of my blue shorter shorts, and a coral pink tank top. I was actually pretty pleased. It made me look pretty tan, and made my normally short frame look longer. I pulled on my one pair of shoes, black converse, and headed into the bathroom to do my hair and make up.

I studied myself in the mirror. I was really just average. I know some girls say that so people reassure them about how beautiful they are, but I know it's the truth. My face was oval shaped, with a dark complexion, and a nose that was just a little too broad for my liking. My teeth were pretty straight, but my lips were pale, and my bottom lip was just a little to full for my top one. My eyes were my most prominent feature, and I went back and forth day to day from loving them to hating. They were a clear blue, like the ocean on a clear day, but sort of darkened if I was angry or scared. They were real big in my head, and made me look young, and kind of childish and innocent. Most people would love to have eyes like mine, but they were too light in my head to fit in well with me. Like they didn't belong. Nevertheless, they got me noticed. I put on light make-up, trying not to look like a raccoon, and moved on to my hair.

It was a dark chocolate brown that was real shiny and silky and smooth. I wore it really long, and cut it myself into choppy layers because I refused to let anyone touch it. My bangs were long and kind of swept to the side, but usually I wore them so that they would cover my eyes. Everyone always said that I had my mommas hair-it's where most of my coloring came from besides my eyes. I got those from my daddy. When she walked out on us, I couldn't bare to cut it, and when I decided I had to to keep it from becoming a burden, I would do it myself. I just brushed it out and left it loose, not bothering to do anything with it. It would stay pin straight anyways. I was short. Like really short. I barely reached five feet, and even so I looked really skinny. I was just glad that I had started... developing... on time.

I on some of my perfume and checked the mirror one last time. I had to look good on my first day out! I stared at myself before cautiously smiling. That's when I looked prettiest, I knew, but finding things to laugh about was hard. Especially when you're alone most of the time. It was lopsided kind of, with a dimple in just one cheek, but I kind of like it. It made me different. Made me feel special. Wishful thinking I guess.

I heaved a sigh and tore myself away from the mirror, scoffing at myself. If I wasn't careful I was gonna turn as vain as the rich kids at my old school! I grabbed $20 from my dad's "secret" stash, and went to the front door, pausing a moment before letting in the bright light from my new neighborhood. I took a deep breath before stepping out, ready to make my debut.


	2. Chapter 2

**Here's chapter two! A little earlier than promised because I might not be here tomorrow! Review and tell me what you think! Constructive criticism is welcome! Please tell me if you see any typos because I typed this up REALLY late! And I promise in this chapter, that the greatest greasers in the world will make and appearance in this chapter!**

**And an extra special thanks to PrettyLeaves for the review! I'm really grateful for it, and I will try to follow all of the advice you gave me! It really encouraged me to write more!**

**And to Pixie silver thank you so much for the advice! I checked it out, and now know what to avoid! Although I've kind of dug myself a hole with the Mary Sue thing, I'm gonna work hard to get myself out! (:**

I'm not sure what I expected as I first walked down my street towards town. I thought maybe some guys playing football or something would maybe stop to stare at the mystery girl walking by. Or maybe some girls would come out to say 'hi' while letting their nails dry. I guess my imagination ran away with me. After fantasizing about that moment for almost two months, I felt vaguely disappointed. I saw nobody else on the streets, and the only sounds were of radios turned up until they almost blasted out your ear drums. But something about this area, despite the run down houses and broken windows, felt safe. Like there was a sense of community and a sort of unity that I liked. Like nothing could hurt me as long as I stayed on that block. Stupid, I know, but I liked the feeling, and after I left the block and arrived in town, a slight feeling of unease appeared.

As I walked down the sidewalk, I tried to decide where to go to get the groceries I needed. I mean, where was I supposed to find an alarm clock? I sighed and kicked a pebble down the street with the toe of my shoe. It sure was hot. In no time at all, I had sweat dripping down my face, which I wiped away impatiently. For a while I thought about going into a DX station to get something to drink, but decided against it when a small fight broke out.

I finally came across a grocery store, and hurried inside to where it was cool. I was happy to find it was one of those stores that also had some house hold appliances, and I was able to find an alarm clock much like the one that had been broken. Walking aimlessly through the food aisles, I realized I rarely went grocery shopping. Usually, for whatever reason, my dad wanted to do it. Probably because that way he could buy all the beer he wanted. I sighed and ended up just grabbing about a hundred of those T.V. dinner things that I'd seen him buy before.

When I hauled all of the food, plus one alarm clock, to the front and dumped it at the register, the cashier looked down at the food looking disdainfully surprised. I blushed a little, looking at the floor.

He was a good looking guy, with short dark colored hair and brown eyes. He was about average height and looked pretty strong, but not totally ripped. A football player, I decided. One who I'd probably go to school with in a month. "That'll be $18.77," He said, sounding bored out of his mind. I handed him the money, not saying anything. He gave me the change, and handed me three plastic bags filled with groceries.

"Thank you," I said quietly, pocketing the money and taking the bags.

Not answering me, he turned towards an open office door and shouted "Marcus, I'm out!" He took off the vest that marked him an employee and revealed a red madras shirt. I heaved a sigh before heading back out into the blistering sun, not looking forward to retracing my steps while weighed down by a ton of food.

The cashier guy walked out behind me and got into a nice looking red Ford. He revved the engine before tearing out of the parking lot. I watched him go jealously, wishing more than anything that I had a car. It would make everything so much easier. As I walked back past the DX and the now absent fight, I hummed quietly under my breath, not noticing much about my surroundings. I didn't even notice the red Ford behind me until it pulled right up beside me and stopped. Five guys all piled out, wearing almost the same shirt, but in different colors. 'Are they trying to be twins or something?' I wondered to myself, before recognizing the boy from the store.

They surrounded me, pinning my back against a fence. "Umm hi?" I squeaked out. Just around the corner was my street. I was so close! I thought that if I could get there, then I would be safe. But I never had that chance.

After a few moments of a tense silence, one of them spoke up. He wore a yellow shirt, and stood in the center of the group, to the left of the cashier. "You're new around here, aren't ya greaser?" He sneered to me.

I became confused. What in the world was a greaser? But all I answered him, with was a simple, "Yes."

The guys looked at each other, grinning like crocodiles. "Well then," Said the guy who had spoke before, "here's a little welcoming gift!" He stepped forward and slapped me. Hard.

I stumbled backwards into the fence, my feet tripping over the forgotten groceries. My hand flew to my face, my eyes were wide. They kept closing in, backing me up against the fence. My heart was beating a million miles a minute. I was so scared.

Grinning, the cashier stepped up and punched me in the stomach, As I doubled over, he followed with a swift fist to the face. My lip split open and I tasted blood. I could feel my eyes start to water. "Please..." I whispered, searching their eyes for any sign of pity, and finding none.

It seemed like they lost any self control or composure that they had at that point because all at once fists were coming at me from every direction. I cowered against the fence with my back to them, but one of them spun me around and pinned my shoulders against it.

I didn't even realize I was screaming until one of them slapped me, and shouted, "Shut up!" All at once I heard shouting coming from somewhere to my left. Cashier boy turned to see what it was, and not liking what he saw, turned to his friends. "Shit! Let's get outta here!" He yelled.

All my tormentors turned and ran to the car, except yellow shirt, who gave one last hard punch that connected solidly with my eye, and sent me slamming into the fence, before toppling to the ground.

I heard some muffled shouts, but couldn't make out anything. The sky swam before my eyes, and footsteps rained around my head, moving toward the sound of a revving car.

I blinked a few times, and all of a sudden there was a face hovering above me. A mouth was moving, but I wasn't able to hear any sound coming out of it. My eyes locked onto the most beautiful green eyes I'd ever seen, and then everything went black.

**Ponyboy's POV**

It was a hot day in Tulsa. Like really hot. Too hot to do much of anything. That's why me, Johnny, Two-Bit and Dally just sat around the house all day watching whatever was on T.V. Mostly Mickey.

It had gotten pretty late in the afternoon when we finally decided to get up and do something. We wanted to meet Soda and Steve when they got off from the DX to walk home with them. It had been two years since me and Johnny had gone on the run from killing that Soc. Johnny had almost died-he'd come real close to busting his back-but the doctors had been able to save him using the money that the parents of the kids we had saved raised. A lot had changed since then.

Johnny had moved out of his parents house for good. He usually either bummed around with Dally, or slept on our couch. Anywhere was better than his house. I guess he was, and still is, a legal adult, but the gang is always gonna look at him as the younger brother-but no longer the pet. I think he was grateful to be treated as more of an equal, but now the spot he had previously occupied was open, and in need of a person to fill it.

Anyways, we were going to walk home with Soda and Steve from the DX because lately things had gotten pretty bad with the Socs, and you needed more than two guys to really make them stay away. That, and we were pretty much out of food. As we walked out the front door, Two-Bit had to make a big deal out of complaining about the heat as he had been doing all afternoon. I think he was also whining about our drink situation, but we mostly just tuned him out. It was too hot to care.

"Look at me!" He shouted as we walked across our lawn. "I'm melting!" Shrieking, he slowly sank to the ground and lay there like a bump on a log. We all rolled out eyes and ignored him, walking right past, but Dally made a point in stepping on his hand which was splayed out on the side walk.

"Hey hey hey!" Two-Bit yelped, jumping off the ground. "Watch where you're puttin' your heels mister!" He grumbled, nursing his injured hand.

"Oh don't be a baby!" Dally scoffed, not even looking back to see Two-Bit stick his tongue out at him. Me and Johnny started to crack up, but were cut off by a death glare from Dallas. He took the edge off of it though, by putting me in a head lock and giving me a noogie.

"Hey stop that!" I yelped, struggling to get free. When I finally did, my hair was sticking up all over the place.

Johnny wasted no time in pointing this out to me, but his amusement was cut short by me jumping on him and messing up his own carefully styled hair. "Hey man!" He grunted, trying to push me off. I wasn't the smallest anymore though. I had hit my growth spurt, and was almost as tall as Soda, and still growing. My build was pretty good too. No doubt from all the track I do.

As we walked along, it really started to get hot. We woulda drove, but the only car that was working was Two-Bit's, and he had left it at Buck's the night before. When we arrived at the station, it looked like a fight was starting to break up. Dallas was as disappointed as anything. "We miss everything," he grumbled, cursing under his breath.

Two-Bit just laughed. "Shoot, in this heat I'm sure you'll find another one in the hour!" He joked, slapping him on the shoulder. I agreed. This heat was making me edgy and grumpy, and I just wanted to get Steve and Soda and go.

We walked into the air conditioned store, and heaved a sigh of relief. "Hey Soda," Johnny said. Soda was just clocking out. "Ready to go?" Hearing Johnny talk wasn't as much of a surprise anymore. He just wasn't as nervous as he used to be.

"Yup," Soda answered. "Let me go get Steve," He opened the door to the garage and poked his head in. "Stevie! Let's go!" He called.

"Thank god!" Steve screamed from the other room, causing us all to laugh quietly as we headed out the door to go home. We had each grabbed a Pepsi, and Dally had swiped a few packs of cigarettes. He handed me and Johnny one for as we walked.

Steve started telling us some story about an old lady that had come in earlier that day with a piece of junk car, but we never got to hear the end of it, because as we turned the final corner to get to the house, we heard some screams. Exchanging stricken glances, all six of us sprinted around the fence corner. When the screams were suddenly cut off, we started to run even faster.

As we rounded the corner, we saw some Socs pinning someone against a fence and taking turns punching or kicking them. Only when the group parted could we see that it was a lone girl. Her long brown hair covered her face, and I couldn't tell who it was.

Two-Bit let out an enraged yell as the Socs closed in on the defenseless girl again, and we all charged at the them, screaming bloody murder. One of them saw us and cussed, running for the car. The rest followed soon after, except for one who gave the girl one last vicious punch in the face that made her slam her head hard against the fence post and crumple to the ground. By that time the gang was already at the car, throwing rocks and reaching through the open windows to get a punch in.

Seeing that the rest of the gang had the Socs covered, I ran to the girl and gently rolled her over, putting her head in my lap.

She wasn't crazy gorgeous like Cherry Valance, but she was cute. It didn't help that there was blood dripping from her nose like a faucet, and her lip was split wide open. She had some cuts on one side of her head that looked a little older, but some new scrapes along her face, and the start of a big black eye. Some random bruises were growing across her cheeks.

Her eyes opened and my breath kind of caught in my throat. They were blue like the ocean, and seemed to look right through you, but in the same way, it seemed like you could look right through them. They were filled with desperation, fear, and pain.

I stroked her hair away from her face, telling her to stay awake, and to stay with me. Her eyes snapped to look straight at mine, and the sun caught her face just right, and for a moment she looked almost alien. My own eyes widened, but the contact broke a second later as her eyes fluttered closed.

"No. No! Come on, come on! Wake up!" I half shouted. The gang had come over by then and, and was looking her up and down.

Two-Bit was the first to speak. "Who in the hell is that?" He asked no one in particular.

We exchanged blank glances before I answered. "Well I don't know her, but she's real hurt and obviously a greaser. We gotta help her out!" I said, looking around the group.

Johnny nodded in agreement while Soda sighed and ran his hand through his hair. "We'll take her to the house," He finally decided. "We can clean her up a little, and Dar can look at her when he gets home from work."

I nodded and gathered the girl up in my arms. She was so light. We walked the remaining couple of blocks to our house, and I gently set her on the couch. Johnny and I got cool wet rags and sponged the blood off her face.

Not sure what to do after that, we just put a cool rag on her head and turned on the T.V. Waiting for Darry to get home, or her to wake up-whichever came first.


End file.
